


The Cat

by Annabellelee13194



Series: Gods and Monsters [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gods and Monsters, Multi, Natasha's Cat - Freeform, One-Shot, Rose regrets everything, She tries, The cat is a dick, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25606927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabellelee13194/pseuds/Annabellelee13194
Summary: Rose loves cats- she really does. So when she FINALLY gets the chance to take care of Natasha's, how can she resist? It....goes about as well as you expect it would. // Takes place after Chapter 36 of "The Swan"- you will probably be confused if you don't read that first. Also contains spoilers for "The Swan".
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Gods and Monsters [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1307318
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	The Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ookami_Hime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookami_Hime/gifts).



> This one's for you, my FanFiction Wife- I'm so sorry you're hurting. Here's something fluffy and cute, just for you. Edited 11/09/20 for spelling and word choice.

Rose, now that her allergies _weren’t_ trying to kill her, found that she _really_ liked animals. In particular, she _really_ liked housecats. Her “Cat Café” date with Steve had showed her that, that particular affection was also apparently returned. So, when Natasha was pulled away for a mission, she thought that it was only logical that _she_ helped her out.

Natasha was less than convinced.

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Rosie.” Rose whined pathetically, giving the red head her best pout.

“Come _on_ , Nat! I _swear_ I can do it! Besides, it’s not like Clint can do it this time.” Natasha raised a brow at her, silently acknowledging her point. Usually, Clint was placed in charge of the feline when the former Russian spy was out on assignment. Unfortunately, the archer was _also_ going on this particular mission. However, that didn’t necessarily mean that _Rose_ was the correct person for the job.

“You’re not wrong- but you’re also not _right_ either. I usually have Darcy or Barnes do it if Clint’s not here. You know- people who _actually_ have experience with animals.” The blonde pursed her lips, unwilling to give up her chance to play with the cat.

“Yeah, but Darcy _hates_ cats. And they hate her too!” Natasha just stared at her, the silent “your point?” hanging in the air between them. Determined to have her way, Rose persevered. “Bucky is also, like, _super_ busy. He and Steve are doing HYDRA things!” The spy snorted at her, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement.

“’HYDRA things’? You mean ‘mediating Tony and Steve’s pissing contests’?” Rose huffed her agreement of her assessment, eyes huge and hopeful over the fact that her friend hadn’t immediately shot her down. Despite her attempts at remaining aloof, Natasha found herself being unwillingly suckered in by the petite woman’s huge eyes, countenance softening slightly as she capitulated. “ _Fine_ \- you can watch Quinn.” Rose squeaks happily, pumping her hands victoriously.

Natasha isn’t finished.

“ _But_ -“ The blonde froze mid-celebration, giving the other woman a wide eyed look. “If you have _any_ trouble, you _have_ to ask Barnes for help.” Rose nodded vigorously as Natasha finished. “I’ll leave you a list of instructions on her care. All of her meds will be on the kitchen counter, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding them. I’ll also bathe her before I go, so she should be fine.” Taking in Rose’s elated expression, Natasha had to hold back a sigh.

This was probably a _terrible_ idea.

* * *

Natasha found Quinn two years ago in the backwoods of Kentucky. The smoosh-nosed Himalayan had been a bald, emaciated mess, tearing into two dogs that had tried to make a meal out of her.

It was love at first sight.

An excellent diet, a _plethora_ of medications, and a dedicated owner had turned the cat into a near work of art. Brilliantly white and fluffy, Quinn (named after one of Natasha’s favorite book characters) was the pinnacle of cat beauty- enough so that she probably could have been paraded around at one of those “Cat Shows” that Rose had seen on TV. The spy had also made it clear that the cat was _extremely_ intelligent- a fact made clear when the blonde spied the enormous amount of baby-proofing that the woman had set up in her otherwise simplistically modern apartment.

Her knitting yarn was in a _locked tub_.

It was…a _little_ daunting.

She wasn’t going to be deterred though. Not from _this_.

Rose wanted a pet. More specifically, she wanted a _cat_. However, she’d _never_ had an animal before (for obvious reasons). It was probably still too soon to get one with her boys- but that didn’t change the fact that she _did_ want one. Taking care of Quinn for a couple of days seemed like an easy enough test run- almost like babysitting before having a kid of her own. Granted, Quinn had more _extensive_ needs than your standard housecat, but Rose just figured that meant she would be _extra_ prepared, you know?

Besides that, cats _loved_ her.

* * *

Rose figured out _very_ quickly that not _all_ cats liked her. More specifically, Natasha’s cat had taken one look at her and decided _instantly_ that she _hated her fucking guts_. She’d taken exactly one step into the apartment, had barely kicked off her shoes (since the spy was _very_ insistent that they scuffed the wood and, as such, were not allowed), and made eye contact with the beautiful feline- and that had been enough. The cat had _screamed_ like something that had crawled out of the depths of _hell_ , hissed threateningly at the blonde, and then _sprinted_ to places unknown.

It was not an auspicious start.

Shocked and a little disappointed by the cat’s response, Rose decided that- rather than attempting to coax the creature out (or try and find it _at all),_ her best chance would be to check off the first thing on the “Quinn Care” list.

Breakfast.

It took her a moment to find the pantry, but the cat food (something organic and _ridiculously_ expensive) was thankfully out in plain sight. She quickly measured out the correct amount and placed it in the cat’s crystal studded food bowl with a quiet clink.

The she waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

After twenty minutes, it became clear that the cat either hadn’t heard the food being poured or simply couldn’t tolerate Rose’s presence. _Praying_ that it was the first one, the blonde went and picked up the bag of food. Then, using a trick she’d seen Darcy use with her half-dead Chihuahua, she shook the bag loudly and plaintively.

Nothing.

Frustrated, she shook the bag again, though this time _significantly_ more aggressively.

Nothing.

Irritated at the fact that she was _apparently_ going to have to try and find the cat, Rose groaned to herself, hands tightening around the flimsy paper bag. The sound had barely escaped her lips when an incensed “meow” popped up right behind her, startling a shocked shriek from her mouth. The hands tightly grasping the bag of cat food jerked apart in her surprise, effectively ripping the bag in two and scattering little fishy smelling pellets all over Rose _and_ her friend’s kitchen. Rather than be equally startled, the cat took the mess as an invitation, immediately moving to gorge itself on the scattered food.

Cursing, but figuring there was little harm in letting the creature have a _little_ extra food, Rose quickly got to work cleaning up the scattered bits and putting what she could salvage into the largest plastic container she could find. By the time she’d finished, the cat had moved on to the food in its bowl, eating and growling the entire time. Her squished nose made the sound more similar to a _snore_ than a full-blown growl, little snuffles leaving its mouth whenever it popped up for air.

It was….actually kind of cute.

Unable to resist, Rose reached out a tentative hand to pet the fluffy creature. The cat, as if _sensing_ the attempted contact, whipped around and _hissed_ at her.

_Yeah- I’m betting that petting is a definite **no** from her._

**_I’m pretty sure that you aren’t supposed to pet fucking demons anyways._ **

* * *

Ten minutes later, Rose quickly figured out _why_ Natasha had such strict rules on the amount of food Quinn was allowed.

The cat was puking _everywhere_.

The blonde could _barely_ keep up with the mess, frantically following the feline around as she did her very best to paint every _inch_ of the apartment with half-digested kitty kibble. Rose managed to keep her from vomiting all over the sofa, launching the cat off the leather with a desperation not usually seen outside of a life or death scenario- which this _undoubtedly_ was.

Goddess or no- Natasha would _murder her_ if she came back to a _stain_ on her couch.

Quinn did _not_ appreciate being tossed.

Righteously furious at being manhandled, the cat quickly made her way over to Rose’s discarded shoes. Hell bent on vengeance (and still nauseous from over eating), the cat turned and began to prepare to vomit, back arching and relaxing as it made the most _horrendous_ noise that the blonde had ever heard. Rose, who was on the other side of the room and scrubbing vomit out of the wood floors, shot up at the nose, quickly zeroing in on the vomiting cat. Scared that any sudden movement would force the puke out of the cat and onto her unguarded shoes, Rose barked out desperately.

“Hey! Quinn!” The cat paused in its yacking, seemingly startled by the loud noise. Emboldened by the reaction, she continued. “Do _not_ puke in my shoes! _No_!” Quinn turned her head, blue eyes dead and _supremely_ unimpressed with her tone.

She began to vomit again, back arching and relaxing as disgusting hacking noises escaped her. Pure _terror_ courses through Rose’s veins as she shouts _again_.

“No! Quinn- _no!_ ” The cat makes eye contact with her again, something almost _smug_ appearing in the depths.

The hacking continued.

“Damn it- _no! Bad kitty! Bad!_ ”

If it was possible, the cat would have given her the middle finger. Instead, the hacking continued, growing more and more wet sounding as food made its way back up.

“Quinn! _Quinn! No- Please-_ Come _on!_ ”

Maintaining eye contact, the cat _finally_ throws up inside her shoes.

Shell shocked and disgusted, the blonde could only gape as the cat chirped triumphantly at her, quickly escaping the room before any sort of reprisal could be made.

_…I think I hate this cat._

**_I get the impression that the feeling is mutual._ **

* * *

The rest of the day is a _disaster_. Any attempts at brushing, playing, or doing _anything_ with the feline are soundly rebuffed. She’d even tried just leaving the cat _alone_ , and _that_ hadn’t worked. After 30 minutes the cat had wandered back from whatever pocket dimension it was hiding in (she could _never_ find the damn thing when it hid), hissed at her, and then run away _again_. It was like it was reminding her just how much it _loathed_ her.

The vomit _fermenting_ in her shoes was reminder enough.

The real challenge came at the end of the day.

Because of her numerous medical conditions, Quinn required a couple medications before bedtime. Now, giving a cat that _liked you_ a pill was a challenge.

Rose quickly realized that she was _hopelessly_ screwed.

Using what she’d read off the internet, the blonde had wrapped the irate cat in a towel and then attempted to shove the pill down the back of the animal’s throat.

The only thing she succeeded in doing was shredding the towel _and_ her jeans. The only reason the rest of her wasn’t shredded was because _thankfully_ kitty claws didn’t count as a “godly weapon”.

Quinn, apparently offended by this fact, chose to vomit the half-chewed pill all over the front of Rose’s shirt.

Grossed out but undeterred, Rose tried again.

It takes her close to 45 minutes to coax the cat out of the ceiling. She has no idea where the pill disappears to.

Desperate, she tries for a third time.

Rose _seriously_ contemplates calling an Exorcist. She’s almost positive that the cat’s head _actually_ spun all of the way around, and the noise she made more than likely summoned something from the pits of hell. This time she knows _exactly_ where the pill goes- namely, it goes almost all the way through one of the kitchen cabinets, leaving a trail of cat puke and pill dust downs the sides of the wood.

Out of options, she finally calls Bucky.

* * *

Her boyfriend shows up close to 30 minutes later, dressed in his TAC gear and looking _deeply_ amused by Rose’s shredded appearance. Eyebrows raised, he lets out a low whistle.

“ _Damn_ , Rosie- you lose a fight?” Rose scowled at him, idly fixing the rat’s nest her hair had turned into as she snatched the man into Natasha’s apartment.

“No _shit_ , _James_. No one told me I’d need _holy water_ to deal with this _fucking_ cat.” Bucky snorted at the scathing remark, easily zeroing in on the growling cat hiding underneath Natasha’s kitchen table.

“Who? Quinn? Nah, she’s no demon.” The blonde scoffed at him, watching as the dark haired man easily crossed the room and crouched in front of the irate animal.

“Did you _see_ me? Did you see my _shoes_?” She pointed at the destroyed footwear, eyes glittering almost manically. “She _threw up in them_ , Bucky! On _purpose!_ There was _eye contact_!” Bucky snickered at her before shooting the blonde a wink.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t a _brat_. You just have to know how to handle her.” Unimpressed with his statement, Rose crossed her arms and gestured down at the still growling cat.

“Oh yeah? Then _you_ do better.” Bucky just winked in response, turning around and facing the demon cat head on. The smile instantly melts off his face when he makes eye contact with the feline, mouth twisting into a stern line as he regards it.

Then, to Rose’s _complete_ confusion, he starts to cuss at it- in _Russian_.

What’s more confusing? The cat _finally_ stops growling. In fact, if Rose wasn’t mistaken, it was almost like the cat was _arguing_ with him. Angry little chitters escape its smooshed face as it slowly makes its way out from under the table, the occasional _yowl_ punctuating the rush of noise from its tiny mouth. Once it was close enough, and after a particularly _commanding_ phrase from the former Soviet assassin, the cat lashed out at him, aiming a half-hearted swat at the man’s face. Unimpressed with the little display of dominance, Bucky just scoffed at the fluffy cat, reaching out with lightning fast reflexes and snatching the cat up by the scruff.

The cat promptly goes limp and starts _purring_.

Rose _gapes_ at him.

“How the _fuck_ did you _do that_?” The cat now cuddled up to his chest, Bucky smirks at her, absently scratching the fluffy feline’s offered belly.

“Like I said, baby doll- she’s a _brat_.” He bites his lower lip, dimples in his cheeks deepening as he gives her a nearly _sinful_ smirk. “And I _know_ how to handle _brats_.”

_….I think I’m jealous of a cat._

**_Why? Because you want him to grab you by the neck and flip you on your back?_ **

**_God_ ** _yes._

**_….I didn’t expect you to agree with me. You good?_ **

_Dead inside, but that’s normal._

Her boyfriend, as if to further demonstrate that he is the _superior_ cat handler, quickly and easily shoves the cat’s medicine down its throat. The cat, apparently unbothered by _his_ attempts, settles down quickly- even going so far as to give the man _kisses_.

Rose has never been so jealous of someone _in her entire **life**_.

* * *

After seeing Bucky with the cat, Rose quickly admits defeat. Rather than stress herself _and_ the cat out, she decides that the better alternative is to have Bucky come along and “mediate”. The brunet, after being stuck listening to Steve and Tony bitching at each other for _days_ , gladly volunteers to help her.

It makes a _world_ of a difference.

She’s not sure if the cat just needed someone familiar around, or if they’re both sad, _desperate_ bottoms for Bucky Barnes, but Quinn is _much_ more agreeable with him around. She’s, admittedly, still kind of a “brat”- but never to the level she was with Rose. It’s more like she’s _testing_ the man, trying to see how far she can push him before he shoves her on her back.

It’s a sentiment that Rose can get behind. Or under. Whichever.

By the third and final day, Quinn has decided that Rose is an _acceptable_ human. She’s not nearly as affectionate as she is with Bucky, but she _does_ sit in her lap at one point. Despite the abuse the animal had put her through, the blonde _beams_ at the affection, gesturing at her amused boyfriend as if to say “see- she _likes me_!”

She doesn’t even mind the pile of white hair the cat leaves all over her clothes.

* * *

Later, after Natasha returns and reclaims her cat (“ _why_ is there a pill stuck in my kitchen cabinet?””….ghosts?”), Rose sprawls out across the sofa in their apartment, idly picking at the hair embedded in her clothes. Bucky, busy in the kitchen making himself, Rose, and Stevie dinner, couldn’t resist commenting on her fuzzy outfit.

“Trying to build your own cat, Rosie?” The blonde scoffed at him, waving lazily in his direction.

“ _God_ no- at least not right now. Cats are a _lot_ of work.” Bucky raised a brow at her comment, lowering the temperature on the stove so that the food wouldn’t burn.

“Oh? ‘Not right now’? You plannin’ on getting a herd of cats, baby doll?” Rose snickered at the teasing question, popping up to toss a throw pillow in his direction.

“ _Please_. I could barely handle _one_ cat. I feel like an entire herd would _actually_ murder me.” Bucky hummed at her, eyeing the pillow that had landed several feet away from him with fake contemplation.

“You _do_ have a point. Of course, it would probably turn into a war of attrition- you both seem to have _nine lives_.” Rose cackled at the dry observation, collapsing back on the sofa with little gleeful snorts. After a moment, the laughter trailed off, something soft and thoughtful appearing on her face.

“No….I don’t think I’m ready for a cat. But maybe….” _Maybe_ ….Maybe _someday_ ….

Maybe she _could_. Maybe they _all_ could.

Her future was so _long_ \- stretched out before her in a wonderfully endless way. She wasn’t sure that she was ready for a pet. Truthfully, with everything going on, it was probably a bad idea anyways.

But she had _someday_. And “someday”? Someday was _beautiful_.

“Baby doll? Dinner’s ready! Come grab a plate before Stevie gets back and eats everything!” Rose gracefully rolls to her feet, a smile stretching across her face at the domestic call. Something warm and golden bubbles up in her chest, periwinkle eyes bright and happy as she made her way to the kitchen. If she focused, she could almost imagine another _tinier_ pair of feet following her as she walked- a tiny _person_ with her hair and his eyes following in her footsteps.

_Someday…..Who knows?_

She wasn’t sure how dark the future would get- but she _would_ have one. And the possibilities were _endless_.

**Author's Note:**

> Love you, My Queen. Hope I could make your day a little brighter.


End file.
